w ha tÕs at stake

I want to place the fate of the National Museum of Australia (NMA) in the context of some

of the political strategies that underpin the electoral placidity and public acceptance of a

government so radically reshaping Australian democratic institutions. A national museum

that reaches and engages with a national constituency can be an important place for the

vigorous public debate that democracy requires. In such a place, political doctrines and

dogmas, cultural fantasies and assumptions, historical interpretations and good old common-

sense may all be scrutinised as well as confirmed. Such a place sits beside schools and uni-

versities, public libraries and art galleries and festivals, each of which provides the opportunity

for reflection as well as for congratulation. It is the pause for that moment of reflection that

is at stake in the Review of the National Museum of Australia, its Exhibitions and Public Programs.1

For, as with the other publicly funded but independent sites of public reflection, the National

Museum is to be reined in and redirected. It is to become ‘balanced’. Nothing could more

surely ring its death knell. In future, the museum’s visitors will reflect along the narrow and

limited lines of carefully delineated ‘alternatives’ that in fact confine and constrain rather

than enlarge understanding. And visitors will certainly not be reflecting upon the political

dogmas of the day.

Shortly, Dawn Casey will be replaced as director of the National Museum. The director of

the War Memorial Museum, who contributed a submission to the review, and Philip Jones,

Senior Curator of the South Australian Museum and member of the panel that produced the

review, have both been reported as possible replacements. Whoever is chosen, that person

is likely to be someone with a clear track record of support for the radically conservative

values of the present government, a person who will help to bring yet another formerly

134 VOLUME10 NUMBER1 MAR2004

what’s at stake?History Wars, the NMA and

Good Government.JULIE MARCUS

autonomous but publicly funded organisation firmly under government control. The

inauguration of the regime of control is already under way. The appointment of two further

conservatives to the museum’s governing council—nationalist historian John Hirst and John

Fleming, an ordained Catholic priest, broadcaster and conservative ethicist— will shift sub-

stantially the political colour and responsibilities of the museum.2 With these appointments

the independence of the National Museum will be guaranteed only in so far as its work con-

forms to Prime Minister John Howard’s view of the truth of Australian history. In the words

of Gerard Henderson, despite the Howard government’s relatively limited successes in the

cultural wars: ‘Forget about Australian participation in any second Gulf war … There is more

conflict on the home front right now as the intensity of what has been called “the culture

wars” increases. The National Museum of Australia is the immediate battleground.’3

I am not sure whether ‘culture wars’ is the best term to describe what is happening but

it certainly lends an urgency to what might otherwise be seen as matters less than central

to the politics of the day. Why should the conflict be so fierce? What on earth is at stake? The

key to these questions is to be found in two aspects of the present government’s political

agenda. The first is the strong antipathy of the Howard government to the critics of its policies,

people he lambastes as the ‘elites’. From its earliest days, the government moved to disen-

franchise, defund and take control of its homelands. The assault on the NMA is simply one

front in this much broader battle to eradicate dissent and impose compliance. The defund-

ing of the universities is another. And second, there is a very personal connection between

the Prime Minister and the museum. In funding it he hoped to develop a cultural institution

devoted to displaying a key element of his leadership and electoral success—his new and

successful version of ‘the Australian story’.4

On the face of it, the NMA came through its review pretty well. There were some tech-

nical matters (the lighting is often very poor, labels need to improve and some of the dis-

plays are too crowded) but these are trivial. There were also comments about building better

links with other institutions and bolstering research, matters requiring funding that has not

yet been provided; and there was a series of suggestions about displays that might be includ-

ed that were slightly off the mark, given that much of what was missing is currently found

in other competing museums. Much of the commentary seemed superficial at best, plati-

tudinous or vapid at worst but not particularly threatening. And the Gallery of Aboriginal

Australia seemed to come through largely unscathed. Bain Attwood, however, made the

immediate point that while Aboriginal culture seemed to have survived, Aboriginal history

would be another matter.5

Early public commentary on the review focused on its positive statements about the ways

in which the museum had met its responsibilities under its enabling legislation, the favourable

comment on some of the exhibitions (for example, that titled Eternity) and the relatively

JULIE MARCUS—WHAT’S AT STAKE? 135

positive response to the Aboriginal gallery. Much was also made of a disclaimer from Philip

Jones in which he disagreed with his colleagues that tighter definitions were required in the

‘Nation’ and ‘Horizons’ displays. (26)

However, I fear that the early hope as to the relatively benign nature of the review is

misplaced and based on a generous misunderstanding of the forces at play. I have already

mentioned the changing political direction resulting from the loss of the present director

and the two new appointments to the museum’s council. John Hirst, for example, is known

as a nationalist historian, a critic of multiculturalism and an early defender of the Australian

pioneer legend against Russel Ward’s critics.6 He has also published a conservative com-

mentary on women’s history writing in Quadrant and he was a critic of the Australian Bicen-

tennial project that led to the publication of a ‘people’s history’.7 It seems unlikely that he

will promote the more inclusive values of the disciplines of history and cultural studies that

are so important for a museum of contemporary relevance. I also believe that Attwood was

right to fear that the new regime now being installed will introduce substantial changes to

the Aboriginal exhibitions. It is at least possible that the review will have the style and aes-

thetics of the new Aboriginal gallery of the South Australian Museum in mind rather than

that of a gallery aimed at challenging stereotypes of frontier conflict and at presenting

Aboriginal understandings of history. And undoubtedly there will be a return to a history of

Australia from the introduction of civilisation by Captain James Cook (the review was

critical of his absence from the current displays) to the triumphalism of Howard through

recycled nationalist fantasies that, at their heart, remain resolutely racialised, masculine,

deeply sexist and homophobic.

Let’s look first at the review’s recommendations as to what the National Museum should

be and do. The panel believes that if the NMA is to become an institution of international

stature it must excel in the following areas:

1. telling the Australian story

2. presenting the primary themes and narratives of Australia since British arrival, includ-

ing national character traits, exemplary individuals, group and institutional achievements

and charting the qualities of the nation

3. presenting the history of indigenous peoples, their life and culture, their diversity

4. conveying the history of the land and how people interact with it (geology, biology etc)

5. conveying the mosaic of everyday lives, diversity, migrants

6. including darker historical moments ‘with truthfulness, sobriety and balance’

7. building an outstanding collection based on research

8. collaborating with other museums

9. providing national access to relevant public and schools programs8.


These were the criteria addressed by the review, the criteria that directed the investiga-

tion. In addressing each area the reviewers gave the museum a relatively positive report before

turning to their criticisms: ‘[T]he Museum’s principal weakness is its story-telling—the NMA

is short on compelling narratives … And there are too few focal objects, radiant and numi-

nous enough to generate memorable vignettes, or to be drawn into fundamental moments.’

(68) The review points to problems in translating narrative into museum practice that

have led to incoherence and thus to bewilderment for the museum visitor. It judged the

paucity of narrative and absence of the numinous object to be the two crucial failings of the

NMA. These were also the conclusions that the chair of the review, John Carroll, stressed

in his media appearances on its release. The majority of these conclusions follow from this

diagnosis. All else is justification, window-dressing and elaboration of this central critique.

It forms the reviewers’ explanation of why the exhibits, in their view, fail to engage visitors.

In particular, they say that the Horizons gallery suffers from these defects and, in addition,

suffers from an absence of exemplary individuals and achievements. The gallery devoted

to the period from Federation in 1901, the choice of themes and their execution are also,

according to the review, problematic.

But why should a relatively restrained review lead to the replacement of the museum’s

director, Dawn Casey, and to the addition of two very conservative individuals to the museum’s

already interventionist council? In my view, the review is actually concerned not with in-

adequate narrative but with ‘incorrect’ narrative. The museum is not telling the real, correct

or proper story. It fails to tell the Prime Minister’s ‘Australian story’. As a result, the museum

has become not simply the site of the ‘culture’ or ‘history’ wars, but the focus of prime

ministerial anxiety about his Australian story.

The prime minister and the national museum

Perhaps on being elected in 1996, Prime Minister John Howard wanted a place in which the

real Australian story could be told, the story that would repeal those histories he saw as

painting Australia ‘as little more than a disgraceful record of imperialism, exploitation and

racism’.9 These were the histories stigmatised by Geoffrey Blainey as ‘black armband’ his-

tory, a term analogous to the ‘misery concept’ history used in the former German Democratic

Republic to criticise German historians offering a self-critical reading of the causes and nature

of the Third Reich.10 It was John Howard rather than his supposedly culturally sensitive pre-

decessor, Paul Keating, who finally funded the building of the NMA. After thirteen years in

the political wilderness Howard wanted a national museum that would tell his story of Aus-

tralia, the positive story of pioneers, explorers, Gallipoli, our Don Bradman, mateship and

larrikinism; the story that people could feel relaxed and comfortable with; the story that had

been challenged for at least two decades by academic historians, feminists and all the


—

other forces aligned to the cultural moment that was defeated so soundly in the election of

1996. To see his project through, Howard placed his closest and most trusted servants on

the museum’s governing council. Tony Staley, former Liberal Party politician and now presi-

dent of the Liberal Party, was appointed to chair the council; David Barnett, journalist and

John Howard’s biographer, and Christopher Pearson, sometime speech writer for Howard

with a track record of opposing reform of gay marriage rights and Tasmania’s homosexual

laws, and of discrediting women’s claims to religious authority in the Hindmarsh Island

bridge case.11 Howard’s government provided a handsome A$150 million for building the

museum on a lakeside site in Canberra.12

Yet somehow, the museum kept slipping away from Howard’s story of Australia and

Howard’s view of history. Not only were many historians resisting his vision and the new

forms of racial and cultural assimilation proposed as his government’s answer to the years

of ‘multiculturalism’, but in 1997 the report into the removal of children from their Abori-

ginal families, Bringing Them Home, erupted onto the political landscape. In Bringing Them

Home the impact of government policies on the Indigenous population was described as

genocide.13 A massive counter-offensive followed. The government, commercial media, cor-

porately funded think tanks, and conservative journals and societies systematically began

the task of undoing and discrediting the report on the stolen generations. In this context

Keith Windshuttle, sometime academic, journalist and swingeing critic of cultural studies

in the universities, found a new project—the demolition of left-wing histories in general

and the criticism of the National Museum exhibitions along the way.14 Denial of genocide

lies at the heart of Windschuttle’s criticisms of Australian historians and his attempts to deflate

the Aboriginal death toll. His first high-profile foray into criticism of the National Museum

came in a series of articles written for Quadrant, claiming, among other things, that the

museum’s display of the Bells Falls massacre was in fact commemorating nothing other than

a fabrication. His claim triggered a conference on the history of frontier conflict in Australia,

in which Windschuttle’s arguments and his criticisms of Lyndall Ryan and Henry Reynolds

were discussed extensively.15

As the architectural design and exhibition plans developed, those members of the museum’s

council closest to the Prime Minister became increasingly interventionist and frustrated. An

internal memorandum from David Barnett to Tony Staley, published in the Sydney Morning

Herald on 6 June 2001, gives an indication of the strains of those times:

Label 0829

The stolen children exhibit is a victim episode. Surely, if we are to involve ourselves in

this controversy, there should be an attempt to explain what it was about: the children were

half-castes, who were routinely murdered all the way from Hindmarsh Island to Broome,


the priority was their welfare, often they were given up for adoption, and they were not taken

from mothers able to care for them. No court has yet upheld a stolen child case. There is no

balance here …

Label 0826-70

Heather Rose. Another unfortunate. The way to get a place in the museum is to have

something terrible befall you …16

And much later in the litany of complaints:

Is this what we mean by ‘thought-provoking’, ‘challenging’, ‘controversial’ and ‘seeking to

promote informed debate’.

If we are going to be balanced and thought provoking about the Harvester Judgement,

and how what seemed like a good idea at the time turned out to be disastrous. What about

H.R. Nicholls and Charles Copeman for the Hall Of Fame, along with Captain Moonlite and

Mary McKillop. Copeman told his principals that if he were allowed to sort out restrictive

trade practices at Robe River he would get a 10 per cent improvement in productivity, and

got 70 percent. What about Chris Corrigan. And if we think death is so funny, why don’t we

have Ben Chifley as well as Harold Holt.

I would have thought a national Museum in the national capital might have managed

interesting exhibits dealing with the founding fathers and telling us who past prime minis-

ters have been and something about them without being egregious …

Barnett’s leaked memorandum also indicates his concern that the heroes of the present

group of radical conservative activists were being omitted: H.R. Nicholls; Hugh Morgan,

controversial anti–land rights activist and director of the Western Mining Corporation; Chris

Corrigan, CEO of Patrick Corporation, which with important help from the Howard govern-

ment set out to break the waterfront unions; and Charles Copeman of mining corporation

Peko-Wallsend. Basically, Barnett’s complaint was that the museum lacked balance and

was therefore biased.

While an independent review by Graeme Davison found Barnett’s claims of bias to be

unsubstantiated, the memo gives an indication of the sort of Australian story Barnett wanted

the museum to tell, the story that Judith Brett sees as central to Howard’s appropriation of

the Australian legend to the Liberal Party. Its significance should not be underestimated.

Brett places this appropriation at the fulcrum of Howard’s electoral success and Labor’s con-

tinuing policy disarray.17 Later, Christopher Pearson would wrangle with Davison over

whether the word ‘challenge’ was appropriate as an aim of the museum. Davison won that

battle but the war, I fear, is lost.


All in all, I think it fair to say that although the Prime Minister’s men approved the design

of the building and its exhibitions, it has been the sustained hullabaloo around Indigenous

issues emanating from right-wing think tanks combined with media confrontations around

Keith Windschuttle’s claims about mainstream Australian historians that provided the govern-

ment with the trigger to commission a review of the NMA less than two years after the

museum’s opening.

The panel

I believe that Review of the National Museum of Australia was always intended as the first step

in the process of getting the Australian story right. The panel chosen to carry out this import-

ant task was small and relatively inexperienced in the world of museums. Sociologist John

Carroll was appointed to chair the review panel. Like his fellow appointee, corporate lawyer

Richard Longes, Carroll appears to have little recorded experience in museum management

or exhibition assessment although he has published on the need for archetypes and new

national narratives in modern life.18 Even Gerard Henderson of the Sydney Institute regarded

Carroll’s appointment as unusual. In passing, he reports Tony Staley as discounting the notion

that Carroll was there to make sure the government’s view of history was installed. Tony

Staley, Henderson wrote,

has described as ‘tripe’ claims that the intention of the Carroll review is to bring the museum

exhibitions into line with the Howard government’s view of history (The Australian, yester-

day). And Carroll has declared that it was ‘wrong’ to depict him as ‘conservative’. Rather, he

declared, his views were best described as ‘both culturally and politically eclectic’ (The Age,

December 30, 2002). They certainly are.

In view of the controversy surrounding the museum, one would have expected [Minis-

ter Rod] Kemp to have favoured a pragmatic type—either historian or curator—to head the

review committee. But, instead, he favoured a sociologist—of eclectic disposition. Stand by

for more (cultural) explosions in Australia’s very own battle of ideas.

Carroll, a columnist in The Australian Financial Review, recently wrote on January 9 that

‘since the last federal election the Howard Government has hardly put a foot wrong’. He has

also alleged, without evidence, that Paul Keating attempted to ‘turn Australia into an

Asian nation’ (The Financial Review, October 18, 2002). How could he do so, even if he

wanted to?19

Carroll, however, had been an early supporter of the new forms of conservatism that have

become so crucial to the present government’s social agenda and which are reflected in the

publications of the Institute of Public Affairs (IPA). Museum expertise was provided by

the director of the Monash Science Centre, palaeontologist Patricia Vickers-Rich and his-


—

torian Philip Jones from the South Australian Museum. Like Christopher Pearson, Philip

Jones is known for his role in discrediting women’s claims to religious knowledge relating

to the controversial Hindmarsh bridge case in South Australia. Although Jones heads up the

South Australian Museum’s anthropology section, he is recognised not as anthropologist but

as an historian. Despite the centrality of the Gallery of Aboriginal Australia to the National

Museum’s exhibitions, there was no recognised anthropologist appointed to the panel. Nor

was there anyone with a track record either in the analysis of the visual aspects of exhibitions

or in the theories of discourse, visual narrative and relations of power underpinning con-

temporary museology. Breadth to the review was provided by the process of receiving sub-

missions (not yet made available) and a series of interviews with people whose names have

been kept secret.

The review

Recall that the very first criterion of excellence against which the National Museum was to

be judged was ‘telling the Australian story’. It was this story that had to be remedied. In a

very direct way, the report exhibits not simply the limitations of its contributors but also the

conflicts arising from the need to reconcile the authors’ public duty and acceptance of

scholarly values with the need to provide some form of justification for the changes the

government was seeking.

The weaknesses of the thinking informing the report are particularly evident in the chap-

ter titled ‘Reflections and Vision’, which provides the justification for the criteria by which

the museum would be judged. If this chapter is really intended to carry the weight placed

upon it, a little more intellectual scaffolding would have been appropriate. The absence of

any detailed consideration of the substantial literature concerning museums, their role

and the meaning of ‘national’ in a museum context is very noticeable. While the report alludes

to ‘competing and sometimes incompatible views’ it goes on to claim that: ‘The main change

in recent decades is towards a conception of a national museum as an institution that some-

how projects a society’s sense of itself, its major and defining traits. Its focus has increasingly

become national identity.’ (6) To substantiate their view the reviewers cite a paragraph from

a doctoral thesis by James Gore of Rhodes University, South Africa: ‘National museums find

themselves in conflict … yet, the national museum exists primarily to tell the story of a nation

… needs to retain some kind of coherent narrative, to show the nation’s progress and to hold

all the other stories together’. (6) His proposition, that a national museum is about nation-

al identity and as such requires a coherent narrative charting the nation’s progress may be

a comforting one but it hardly reflects the relevant current scholarship on national museums.

It is, however, a claim that supports the provision of space for illustrating the story John

Howard wants told: a new Australian legend.


—

However, the Howard government has always been wary of some kinds of ‘identity poli-

tics’, particularly pluralistic politics of gender, race or sexuality. Once the story of Australia

becomes one of illustrating national identity the report turns to the central element of the

museum narrative, the object and its display. The report attempts to link museum objects to

the established requirement for narrative. As it stands, this section of the chapter is so full

of contradictions that it makes little sense. To illustrate my point, I quote a paragraph in full:

A related issue is that of balancing grand narratives with diverse and more modest stories.

It is stories that engage people. Museums of their essence work, at least partly, by display-

ing objects which are compelling in themselves—in their significance, their beauty, their

antiquity—ones that can stand alone, like illuminated icons. Yet even here an accompany-

ing or assumed narrative is usually necessary in order to make sense of the object—the Elgin

marbles are confusing fragments without some awareness of classical Athens; or, exhibiting

Judy Garland’s shoes from The Wizard of Oz depends on visitor knowledge of the film, and

the Garland legend. It is extremely rare for an object to work on its own—perhaps the painted

bust of Queen Nefertiti in Berlin is an instance, the object so stunningly beautiful as not to

need interpretation, and the same might even be claimed for Phar Lap in Melbourne. (7)

Overall, I think the paragraph, as it stands, is attempting to establish both the need for

narrative within the museum and the need to have some very special iconic objects in a col-

lection or a display. The next paragraph continues to address the need for narrative by

confusing narrative, interpretation and labelling. It also displays the same form of muddled

expression that characterises this section of the report. The first sentence of the next para-

graph, for example, reads, ‘Museum exhibits that do not work by means of an enchanting

focal object are all the more dependent on generating engaging narratives’. (7) While this

is clearly attempting to introduce the claim of an ‘overwhelming consensus among those

consulted by the panel about the centrality of narrative as the necessary method of museum

presentation’, it does not actually make sense. The problem lies with the word ‘generating’.

Is the ordinary object generating narratives, in which case they would escape the need for

labelling, or is the curator generating a narrative around the object that lacks iconic status?

The following paragraphs of the review discuss the risk that in presenting displays of diver-

sity, an assembly of ill-coordinated fragments might emerge that would confuse the visitor.

Fragments that are poorly coordinated might well confuse a visitor, but the larger claim made

is the stronger one: that displays of diversity will indeed lead to confusion, no doubt due

to the absence of narrative. There is no need, however, for fragments to be ill coordinated

and if they are, no ‘narrative’ will rescue them.

One of the key alternatives offered by the report is a focus on ‘national traits’, traits that

may well spring from the ground itself:


The land provides a cue for one of the national traits, that it is not characterised by single

dramatic formations—those who go looking for great inland seas will not discover them,

but may find themselves taught, and harshly, about a different type of search. An aspect of

national character lies in a respect for the elusive, the out-of-the-way, the self-deprecating,

and alerting quirks in the midst of the ordinary. (7–8)

Here is seems that ‘national traits’ replace the earlier reference to the museum as a space of

national identity. This is a serious matter, one that has bedevilled the national museum from

its inception. The odd listing of national traits is worrying enough, but the attempt to move

from a museum of national identity to one of identity defined through national traits is serious.

It conjures up eerie echoes of racialised notions of national traits. But perhaps there is little

need to worry. The review includes a paragraph that illustrates further their meaning: ‘the

challenge to a museum here is more in the nature of an art than science: to present the ordi-

nary and the everyday in order to open up and reveal the national trait’. (8) The example

provided to illustrate this claim is taken from Patrick White, clearly an author approved of

by someone on the panel as he gets a second guernsey later in the report. On this occasion

Riders in the Chariot is the example. White ‘has one of the leading characters lament when

a snake is killed by her housekeeper, that she always put milk out for it, sometimes it would

let her stand by, but she never quite succeeded in winning its confidence’. (8) I assume

that the national trait this example illustrates is ‘respect for the elusive’, a rather rare trait, I

would have thought, particularly regarding snakes and not an interpretation White would

have sanctioned.

The next paragraph moves from White’s snake to a discussion of Graeme Davison’s sub-

mission to the review. Davison argued for what he calls ‘interpretive’ pluralism. He is quoted

as saying: ‘A national museum might then expect to play host to several interpretations of

the national past, stirringly patriotic as well as critical, educationally demanding as well as

entertaining’. (8) The panel’s response to Davison’s suggestion is to claim that the difference

between their view that ‘there is more consensus than plurality at the core of the national

collective conscience’ and his image of ‘plurality and flux’ will not lead to differences in

the way judgements are made. (8) This claim is a clear indication of the panel’s failure to

understand both Davison’s modest proposal and the concept of the ‘collective conscience’,

a term more usually translated as the rather different, collective consciousness. Similarly, the

panel fails to grasp the significance and meaning of Benedict Anderson’s term ‘imagined com-

munities’. They reject the notion that ‘national character is a sort of fictitious construct, fluid

and subject to rapid change, and therefore ephemeral’ and claim that his ‘view underestimates

the deeper continuities in culture’. (8) The examples? ‘The degree to which the portrait of

the courageous warrior hero developed in Homer’s Iliad three millennia ago has shaped later


images and stories, including, in the twentieth century, both the Australian Anzac legend

and the American Western film genre.’ (8) In my view, the Anzac legend and its cult of male

initiation, brotherhood and death needs to be seen not as a semi-modern manifestation of

an ancient enduring imagery but as precisely the kind of refashioning and rapidly changing

construct that Anderson’s work might illuminate. The problem here is that there is unrecog-

nised slippage between myth and history and history as myth. What the panel is claiming is

that, as far as the NMA is concerned, the difference in understandings of the Anzac legend

should be resolved rather than contested and, yes, challenged. In other words, the panel’s

commitment to cultural continuities and cultural ‘consensus’ provides little space for ‘inter-

pretive pluralism’.

By this point, page eight, the groundwork for the panel’s particular vision for the NMA

is well and truly laid. The museum will tell the Australian story, it will be based on national

traits, and it will include Gallipoli (an aspect of the Australian legend assiduously revived,

funded and systematically bolstered by the Prime Minister). There is a need for narrative,

and some objects can be characterised by their ability to enchant and the museum should

have some of them.

As the chapter proceeds, the emphasis on national character traits within the story of Aus-

tralia increases. What ‘achievements, prominent episodes and character traits are vital to the

Australian story’, (9) they ask. Geoffrey Blainey, a historian with close links to the Prime

Minister, identified these as including ‘national productivity … a capacity to feed and clothe

millions of non-Australians; pioneers of democracy, especially in relation to women’s rights,

innovation, usually out of adversity; mining, migration … the city … sport and its social

links to nationalism and pioneering revaluations of leisure’ (9); business, sporting and scien-

tific achievements were mentioned in other submissions.20 Then the review cites ‘the more

traditional themes of European discovery, exploration, convicts, settlement … bushrangers,

wool and wheat, fire and drought, and so forth’. (9) And finally, the panel offers a statement

of faith in identifying our greatest achievement as:

the establishment of a notably stable, efficiently managed, prosperous democracy, with very

low levels of institutional corruption, with relatively low social inequality and a largely inclu-

sive ethos, which has integrated immigrant peoples from hundreds of other places with

reasonable success. Emblematic was the success of the 2000 Sydney Olympics, as acknowl-

edged by much of the rest of the world. Tied in here are character traits of inclusiveness, a

‘fair-go’ ethos, a distrust of extremisms and civic common sense. (9)

The trouble with focusing on national character traits is that it generates bad propaganda

rather than decent history. They mirror the Prime Minister’s view of Australian society and


seem similar to those of David Barnett and Christopher Pearson, and they are certainly free

of the guilt that Geoffrey Blainey so deplores. The problem with such very positive state-

ments about the nature of Australian society is that they are so contested. A ‘fair go’ ethos

has to be seen as an ethos so severely circumscribed by the Howard government in its re-

sponses to refugees, the needy and poor, working mothers and the desire of gays to marry

or even inherit superannuation benefits that it sounds hypocritical rather than a fundamental

social commitment. Similarly, the claims for relatively low levels of social inequality look

hopeful when set against studies on the polarisation of the distribution of national income,

and in the context of Aboriginal disadvantage across so many social indicators. ‘Low levels

of institutional corruption’ seems an odd inclusion but it may depend on where the com-

parison is being made. In the teeth of a government known for its core and non-core pro-

mises, media manipulation in relation to the Tampa refugees, machinations over public

funding for the ethanol industry, dissembling as to the legitimate requests of Kurdish refugees,

and a disintegrating code of parliamentary conduct, it seems a bold view. However, perhaps

the panel sees this behaviour as examples of the mateship that is so central to the Australian

story? And as for inclusiveness? It may be that a version of mateship that includes women

and gays, and crosses racial boundaries is near at hand.

Because of its importance in establishing the framework for what will follow I have spent

rather longer than I would have wished on the detail of the review’s second chapter, ‘Reflec-

tions and Visions’. In summary, I’d suggest that the incoherence of this chapter springs from

a number of sources. First, in the absence of a proper review of the relevant literature, the

review offers little information to sustain its analysis. Second, it follows from the first point

that the chapter does not consider arguments about narrative, objects, museum displays. It

does not evaluate, discuss, compare or contrast other than in the most superficial way.

And third, the writing is so poorly structured and fragmented that it displays a level of in-

coherence that makes even a close reading very difficult. Indeed, it reads better if you do not

seek to read too closely. Later sections of the report dealing with the more technological and

less politically salient aspects of the museum are generally much clearer. However, the prob-

lem is that the evaluation of the museum’s performance and the panel’s conclusions about it

are based on the earlier garbled, scene-setting chapter. While the members of the panel have

undoubtedly acted in good faith, I believe that the need for change at the museum was deter-

mined well before the review was begun.

Placid electorates and the erosion of democracy

At the beginning of this essay I suggested that an independent national museum has a role

in providing a space for public reflection on the nature of the world we live in, our culture,


—

our society and, of course, our government. I suggested that a healthy democracy depends

upon independent public spaces and the moments of reflection they offer. I believe that

the members of the review panel would agree with me. However, they support the installa-

tion of exhibitions that will tell an Australian story that is far too narrow, too staid, too com-

placent and, in the end, too unengaging to bring the visitors in and keep them coming back.

I believe the review’s report is self-defeating and that the political stacking of the National

Museum’s council will serve no purpose other than spoiling the museum’s potential.

That potential can still be realised. Take, for example, the reviewers’ suggestion that Captain

James Cook should appear in the museum’s exhibitions.21 Let him be there, a bearer of the

Enlightenment values so resisted and devalued by the present government. Let the subversive

and fascinating Aboriginal stories of Captain Cook collected by Deborah Rose and others be

brought forward so that the Indigenous voice comes through loud and clear, let Cook’s deifi-

cation in the Pacific be explored and let us see him not as one but as many, not as an icon of

civilisation and Christianity arriving in an empty and benighted land but as a man of many

fragments. Let us see him as real and as mythology, as fragmented and multi-faceted and,

yes, as challenging.22 And let us reflect for a moment on the values that Cook stood for, and

what has happened to his dreams and ours.

If the museum’s exhibitions are reduced to a series of recitations about the arrival of civil-

isation and the church, promises of infotainment, corporate success and government-approved

heroes, if the approved exhibition is the balanced exposition of alternative clichés illumi-

nated through supposedly numinous objects, we will be stuck with Phar Lap’s heart and one

of Don Bradman’s infernal stock of caps and bats for ever more. Surely there is more to life

than this? In other words, if the reviewers’ suggestions were taken up, we would have to

endure a steady diet of clichéd exhibitions and fetishised objects that would be both expen-

sive and intellectually deadening. One can understand why a government would want such

a museum, but why would the reviewers? My fear is that where cliché prevails, thought

vanishes. With it, goes critical thinking.

That is what’s at stake. A placid, self-congratulatory electorate, or a critical, snippy, demand-

ing and questioning one. One that the present government does not really want.

——————————

JULIE MARCUS is a feminist anthropologist. Formerly Senior Curator of Social History at the NMA,

she has published a number of essays on Australian culture, Islam and gender. Her most recent

book is the prize-winning biography of neglected Australian anthropologist Olive Muriel Pink.

——————————


1. Review of the National Museum of Australia, itsExhibitions and Public Programs, a report to theCouncil of the National Museum of Australia,Commonwealth of Australia, 2003.

2. Joyce Morgan, ‘Museum Director’s DumpingDisappoints’, Sydney Morning Herald, 29 August2003, p. 2; ‘Museum’s New Faces’, The Australian,29 August 2003, p. 6.

3. Gerard Henderson, ‘Howard’s Odd MuseumChoice’, The Age, 14 January 2003,<http://www.theage.com.au/articles/2003/01/13/1041990231026.html>.

4. See the analysis offered by Judith Brett, AustralianLiberals and the Moral Middle Class: From AlfredDeakin to John Howard, Cambridge UniversityPress, Melbourne, 2003. Brett’s analysis of therefashioning of a moral community withinAustralian Protestantism is important in showingthe linkages between religious affiliation and themoral community pictured within the Australianlegend as it is now being understood.

5. Immediately after the report’s release, BainAttwood made this distinction and expressedgrave fears about the prospects for themuseum when he spoke to Philip Adams on‘Late Night Live’, ABC Radio National, 21 July2003.

6. J.B. Hirst, ‘The Pioneer Legend’, Historical Studies,vol. 18, no. 71, pp. 316–37.

7. John Hirst, ‘Women and History’, Quadrant,vol. 39, no. 3, 1995, p. 8. See also StuartMacintyre and Anna Clark, The History Wars,Melbourne University Press, Melbourne, 2003,pp. 117–18.

8. See Review, pp. 12–13.9. Quoted in Judith Brett, Australian Liberals and the

Moral Middle Class: From Alfred Deakin to JohnHoward, Cambridge University Press, Melbourne,2003, p. 202.

10. Michael Burleigh and Wolfgang Wipperman, TheRacial State: Germany 1933–1945, CambridgeUniversity Press, Cambridge, 1991, p. 13.Attwood and Foster trace the origin of Blainey’suse of the ‘black armband’ slogan to GeoffreyBlainey, ‘Australia: Two Peoples: Two Nations?’,Age, 12 June 1993, and subsequent articles,including ‘Drawing up a Balance Sheet of OurHistory’, Quadrant, vol. 37, nos 7–8, 1993,p. 15; see Bain Attwood and S.G. Foster (eds),Frontier Conflict: The Australian Experience,National Museum of Australia, Canberra, 2003,p. 29, note 39. Macintyre and Clark give moredetail in The History Wars. For a discussion ofBlainey’s history writing, see Julie Marcus, ‘ThePast of Geoffrey Blainey’, The Age Monthly Review,12–13 February 1989.

11. Pearson’s own account of his politicalinterventions and role can be found in his speechto the George Munster journalism forum at theUniversity of Technology, Sydney (n.d.)<http://acij.uts.edu.au/old_acij/munster/f4pearson>.

12. The museum was funded through thegovernment’s Federation Fund, a fundestablished as part of the negotiations involvedin partly privatising Telstra. From the sale $A1billion was promised for significant nationalprojects.

13. After careful consideration of the relevantinternational conventions and definitions, thecommission’s report concluded:

The policy of forcible removal of childrenfrom Indigenous Australians to other groupsfor the purpose of raising them separatelyfrom and ignorant of their culture and peoplecould properly be labelled “genocidal” inbreach of binding international law from atleast 11 December 1946 … the practicecontinued for almost another quarter of acentury.

Bringing Them Home: A Report of the NationalInquiry into the Separation of Aboriginal and TorresStrait Islander Children from their Families, HumanRights and Equal Opportunity Commission,Sydney, 1997, p. 275. For an account of earlierresistance to the use of the term, see Macintyreand Clark.

14. For his attack on cultural studies, see KeithWindshuttle, ‘Journalism versus CulturalStudies’, Australian Studies in Journalism, vol. 7,1998, pp. 3–31. In this paper Windshuttlerehearses many of the themes put forwardin his attacks on historians and his call for anempirical history based on known and verifiablefacts.

15. Keith Windschuttle, ‘The Myths of FrontierMassacres in Australian History’, Quadrant,vol. 44, nos 10–12, 2000, pp. 8–21, 17–24,6–20; the conference papers are published inAttwood and Foster.

16. Sydney Morning Herald archives, ‘The DavidBarnett Memo’, accessed 26 August 2003,available at <http://old.smh.com.au/news/0106/06/features/features21.html>.

17. ‘The David Barnett Memo’.18. John Carroll, The Western Dreaming: The Western

World is Dying for Want of a Story, Harper Collins,Sydney, 2001.

19. Gerard Henderson, ‘Howard’s Odd MuseumChoice’, Age, 14 January 2003, accessed26 August 2003, <http://www.theage.com.au/articles/2003/01/13/1041990231026.html>.


20. See also Andrew Clark, ‘In Their Own Image’,Australian Financial Review Report, March 2001,p. 36.

21. Review, pp. 18–9, 23. In a recent critiqueLinda Young makes the point that Cookmemorabilia is available in other museums inAustralia and is also scattered around overseascollections from which it is difficult to extract.Linda Young, ‘Review in Question’, Muse,October 2003, p. 7.

22. See, for example, Deborah Bird Rose, ‘The Saga ofCaptain Cook: Morality in Aboriginal andEuropean Law’, Australian Aboriginal Studies,no. 2, 1984, pp. 24–39; E. Kolig, ‘Captain Cookin the Western Kimberley’, in Ronald andCatherine Berndt (eds), Aborigines of the West:Their Past and Their Present, University of WAPress, Perth, 1980, pp. 274–82; Marshall Sahlins,Islands of History, Chicago University Press,Chicago, 1985.


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